


Pain is the Spice of Pleasure, They Say

by Aansero



Category: The Goblin Emperor - Katherine Addison
Genre: M/M, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-07
Updated: 2016-08-07
Packaged: 2018-08-07 05:32:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7702555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aansero/pseuds/Aansero
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He had not thought about it before, so he couldn't remember the first time he had forgotten his own strength.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pain is the Spice of Pleasure, They Say

**Author's Note:**

> From a prompt over on the kink meme: https://tge-kink.dreamwidth.org/678.html?thread=200358#cmt200358
> 
> No beta; any concrit would be very welcome!

In truth, Beshelar had not thought about it before. Right from the start Csevet had been so – enthusiastic. His arched back, open mouth, closed eyes. The way he sighed and groaned and laughed. Lips red, wet, and swollen. His cock standing erect and leaking precome.  
  
Csevet had not lost his courier-days physique. He was short but lean, lithe, his muscles wiry. He did not lack in endurance. Perhaps it was this that had made Beshelar forget that Csevet was not a soldier, not as strong as Beshelar. So when Beshelar pushed him down to straddle his thighs, held his wrists in one hand and touched–not–touched his cock to tempt then deny orgasm with the other, it was not so much that Csevet didn't push him off as Csevet couldn't push him off.  
  
Or when Beshelar had taken a fist-full of Csevet's braids, pulled them to bare Csevet's long neck and kissed him there roughly: Csevet could not have freed himself if he'd wanted to. And he hadn't, that much was abundantly clear. Beshelar did not fear for a second that he was forcing the matter.  
  
But perhaps, Beshelar thought as they lay together, and he saw of the red marks on Csevet's neck and the slight bruises on Csevet's wrists, there had been undue force all the same. Csevet, if he knew what had caught Beshelar's eyes and hardened his mouth, did not show it. Instead he sighed and rolled on top of Beshelar to nip at his collarbones, hands wandering down Beshelar's body to grasp at his cock. Beshelar stopped thinking; he rolled them both over to shove Csevet face-down onto the mattress, then lifted him bodily with a hand on each hip. Csevet scrabbled to get his knees beneath him and gasped wetly as Beshelar pushed inside of him.  
  
'Is this what thou wantest?' Beshelar said, as his hips snapped back and forward, hard and fast. 'Wantest my cock again? Desperate to get filled up by it, so soon after the last time?'  
  
'Yes,' Csevet said. 'Yes–'  
  
'So greedy.' Beshelar's voice was rough. 'Look at thee bent over to take it.'  
  
Beshelar let go of Csevet's hips; with one hand he reached to grasp Csevet's cock, and leaning forward he braced the other hand on his nape, pushing Csevet's upper body down and his face into the sheets. Csevet writhed, moving his hips into Beshelar's thrusts as much as he could, his back curved sharply, trapped between body and hands.  
  
Beshelar found his voice. 'Dost want it? Wilt beg for it?'  
  
'Yes,' Csevet gasped, muffled into the sheets. 'Yes – please, fuck me, please–'  
  
Beshelar didn't reply, but thought suddenly, as his thrusts deepened, that Csevet was indeed trapped literally and not metaphorically. Csevet really couldn't do anything but writhe and beg, face pressed to the mattress, arse in the air.

There would be finger-shaped marks on his neck come morning, redness if not bruising.  
  
Beshelar came with a stifled shout, his release violent, burning hot within him. Through the dizzying force of orgasm, as blackness crowded his vision, he couldn't tell if his eyes were closed or not.  
  
The sensation of himself sliding out of Csevet, who was still thrusting into Beshelar's hand in short, erratic movements, brought Beshelar back to the present. He let go of Csevet and sat back onto his heels, breathing hard. The aftermath of the orgasm still ran like pins and needles in his fingers.  
  
'On–' he said, then swallowed down the roughness in his voice. 'On thy back.'  
  
Csevet, sweat-slicked and panting, obedient as a dog, rolled over onto his back with Beshelar between his knees. His braids were all but undone, a tashin stick falling from them onto the sheets. Strands of hair stuck to his face, which he brushed away clumsily, no longer graceful. Csevet cried out when Beshelar lent down and took his cock in his mouth, attempting to thrust upward but stopped by Beshelar's hands on his thighs. He muffled himself with his wrist over his mouth as Beshelar worked down his cock, until the head bumped the back of Beshelar's throat and Beshelar swallowed, half-gagged. Beshelar tilted back, bobbing his head, and tightening his grip. He didn't have Csevet's long, lacquered fingernails, but his short nails were still enough to dig in and pinch the soft skin of Csevet's inner thighs.  
  
Csevet came, silent but for his heavy breathing. He trembled as Beshelar licked his cock clean and pressed rough kisses on the marks on his thighs. After a long moment he pushed himself up into sitting.  
  
'Enough,' Csevet said and laughed, breathless, flicking his ears. His formal court accent had slipped, as it always did. 'Let me up. Or wilt be the one to explain to His Serenity why none of his letters have been written.'  
  
Beshelar bit Csevet's thigh, making him gasp, then sat back. 'Thou workest too hard,' he said, standing to take a cloth from his basin to wipe himself down with, and handed another to Csevet.  
  
'Dost really mean that?' Csevet asked, voice mild. Beshelar didn't reply; sated and comfortably tired as he was he lacked the wherewithal to be chagrined. As they kissed before parting Beshelar brushed back Csevet's hair, done back up into simple braids, to find the reddened skin on the nape of his neck. Csevet grinned up at him then left.

 

 

  
* * * * *

  
Edrehasivar's closeness with Csevet was highly improper – though not, perhaps, given the circumstances, entirely undesirable. If nothing else Csevet was organised and discreet in all necessary things, including this: that morning, as they worked together, Edrehasivar couldn't see down Csevet's high collar or up his voluminous sleeves. Beshelar still stood on duty with sweat prickling the back of his neck and a flush that would not go away.  
  
He had not thought about it before, so he couldn't remember the first time he had forgotten his own strength. Had he done so from the very start, when Csevet had come to his chamber with a bottle of yellow wine and they'd drank together – not much, just enough to brighten Csevet's eyes and make Beshelar laugh a little louder, a little more rough than usual. They'd sat side by side on the narrow bed until Csevet had leant over and kissed him. Beshelar had pulled him onto his lap, gripped his hips tightly – had Beshelar left marks? Had he realised that Csevet had not been able to pull away as he himself could have?  
  
And why did it matter, when Csevet clearly enjoyed himself, and would have spoken up if not?  
  
Beshelar's shifts and endless training, together with Csevet's long hours, meant that their time together was rarer than either would have liked. Nine days after Csevet had last turned up on the doorstep of Beshelar's chamber, Beshelar ended his shift and found Csevet waiting for him at the base of the Alcethmeret stairs.  
  
'Good evening, Lieutenant Beshelar,' Csevet said as he fell into step.  
  
'Mer Aisava,' Beshelar said. 'You're up late.'  
  
'Good company is as restful to the soul as sweet sleep to the body,' Csevet said – a quote, though Beshelar couldn't place where from.  
  
He waited ten seconds until they were alone in the corridor, then said, 'If it's rest thou seekest, perhaps shouldst wait for Cala instead.'  
  
Csevet laughed. 'Where is he?'  
  
'Stayed behind to talk to Kiru,' Beshelar said. Further conversation was halted as they arrived at Beshelar's chamber, and Csevet waited politely for Beshelar to enter first and invite him in.  
  
_What next, then,_ Beshelar thought. His cock had half-hardened almost the moment he'd saw Csevet waiting for him, and now, with Csevet standing so close, looking up at him, it throbbed persistently. Something stopped him, holding him in place. He could reach out and pull Csevet in to kiss, or press him tight against a wall with one thigh between his legs, pushing just hard enough to make Csevet lose that graceful air of his–  
  
So tight Csevet could not hope to wriggle free.  
  
'Thinkest too much,' Csevet said lowly. He leant up and licked the length of Beshelar's ear, grazing the skin with his teeth. Reflexively Beshelar's hands found Csevet's waist, their grip tight and uncompromising, and Csevet grinned.


End file.
